


all our problems on the surface

by hacf



Category: Halt and Catch Fire
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - The Martian, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-01
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:34:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29770056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hacf/pseuds/hacf
Summary: Donna & Cameron; The Martian AU
Relationships: Donna Clark/Cameron Howe
Comments: 5
Kudos: 11





	1. Mars.

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Don't Wanna" by HAIM.
> 
> I had to change somethings so if you read this before march 9th, i would def recommend re-reading it before the next part because there were a few changes. donna & gordon are still married in this and gordon isn't on the crew to mars.

Cameron opens her eyes, unsure if she’s dead or alive. Someone is yelling her name, sharp but wavering, slightly out of breath. She blinks more. Her eyes feel scratchy and her head is spinning and there’s pulses of pain from her lower right side whenever she breathes. 

Everything feels like it’s in slow motion and everything is grey. She has to be dying. She never really considered what dying was like, but she didn’t think it’d be this slow. 

“ _Cameron,”_ It’s Donna’s voice. Cameron doesn’t know if that means she’s in hell or heaven. “You’re not fucking dying.” 

“Are you sure?” Cameron croaks. She tries to reach out to tug her helmet off but it sends pain shooting from her side upwards. She looks down and _oh, shit._ “Who stabbed me?”

“Nobody stabbed you,” Donna mutters. “There was a storm and we tried to -” She stops. “This is going to hurt.”

Cameron doesn’t get a chance to reply before Donna is pulling the antenna out in one quick movement. She expects something - relief, more pain, to pass out - but she only feels numb. Her pulse is centered on the wound and she looks down. It’s dark red-brown and gaping and she swallows, “Something is still in there.”

Donna frowns and starts leading her to the med bay. It's a stretch of a term, only a cot and a table with boxes full of supplies. Cameron leans back and closes her eyes, focuses on listening to Donna move around. 

“I’m sorry,” Donna says. There’s forceps and digging and Cameron has to grip the edge of the cot to not react. “Okay, okay,” Donna breathes. “I got it.”

Cameron nods. The piece of shrapnel and the forceps clatter on the desk. She doesn’t trust herself to speak and it isn’t like Donna is done yet, either. She gets anesthetic out, irrigates the wound, and stitches it up. Donna has quick fingers, long and delicate, and she loops through it easily. Donna starts talking about antibiotics and Cameron nods, pushing herself up on her elbows to see better. The stitches pull but hold and she relaxes. 

“So,” Cameron sighs. “What happened?”

\--- --- ---

**LOG ENTRY - SOL 7. LOCATION: HAB**

“We’re pretty much fucked,” Cameron tells the camera. “That’s my considered opinion. We’re fucked.” 

“Six days,” Cameron pushes for a smile. “Six days into this _Phoenix 3_ trip and there’s a huge sandstorm out of nowhere. We tried to get to the MAV, well - some of us did, but well - I got attacked by an antenna.” She shrugs, “It pierced through my suit and through _me._ The blood though, so much blood, concealed the breach. So I didn’t die out there. I probably will die on Mars.”

“We’re not going to die on Mars,” Donna mutters, off camera. She hasn’t been in any of Cameron’s videos yet but Cameron is confident she can get her in some eventually. They’re going to be a big deal. They’re going to get back home and a bunch of people are going to watch these videos. She’s sure they’ll be analyzed and questioned, each frame breaking down their mental states and how they figured out how to survive on a barren planet, but she thinks they’ll also be seen by people who won’t be able to believe it. She likes the idea of it. 

Cameron turns back to the camera and grins, “Hear that everyone? We’re not going to die up here.” She clicks the camera off and rolls her chair so she’s facing Donna. 

They’re both wearing grey t-shirts with a tiny NASA patch with their crew design on the left chest. It looks mocking to her now. _Phoenix 3_ written in big swooping letters, then Mars, bright red in the background, and Earth in the foreground. There’s an honest to god Phoenix that’s swinging from Earth to Mars, following a clearly drawn path in white. 

Cameron used to think the logo was cool. Now she just stares at the bird who is hypothetically flying to Mars and feels the reality of the situation hit her. She also realizes that she’s staring at Donna’s chest and she coughs, looking up at her face.

“How are you feeling?” Donna asks.

“Fine,” Cameron says. The stitches are holding and she hasn’t forgotten to take her antibiotics yet. 

“We have enough food to last us about 300 days,” Donna says. “400, maybe, if we increase rationing, but it’s not - we’re going to need more.”

“Okay.”

Donna walks over and sits beside her. They’re at Joe’s desk, because it’s the cleanest, bare of any pictures on the walls and a stack of notebooks off to the side. 

“I meant it,” Donna starts, slowly. “We aren’t going to die up here.”

Cameron wants to laugh. She would laugh, if Donna wasn’t looking at her like she is serious, like she actually means it, like she believes in them. 

“It’s four years until the next trip,” Cameron points out.

“I know,” Donna says. She pushes a notebook towards her. There’s a list of things to worry about written in small and neat handwriting. “I’m worried about food, mostly.” 

“If the oxygenator breaks down, we’ll suffocate,” Cameron reads. “If the water reclaimer breaks down, we’ll die of thirst. If the HAB breaches, we’ll explode.” 

“Yes,” Donna says. “But even if none of those things happen, eventually we’ll run out of food.”

“Great,” Cameron says. “We’ll be fine.”

\--- --- ---

Donna thinks there’s another problem, one that she can’t say out loud, and one that scares her more than a lack of food. It shouldn’t - Cameron is harmless, she knows that. She’s smart and clever and probably the best option out of their crew to be stuck on Mars with. The botanist degree comes in handy when you’re stuck on a planet without a source of food and Donna watches her pace around the HAB and thinks. 

They have to survive. They have to survive _together,_ which is the bigger problem. There hasn’t been a mission this long and with only two people. A year and a bit with the same six people is a breeze compared to at least four years with one. 

Donna is the commander which means she was always wary of her relationships with the crew. There was always a slight block between her and the rest of them, a clear hierarchy that the bosses and therapists at NASA thought was important. Donna only needed them to respect her, not like her, and she was never sure if Cameron did either. 

It doesn’t help that Cameron was the youngest on their crew either, lowest ranked, and quiet about her comments even if Donna could see the suspicion on her face. They were never friends, never were anything more than brugruding co-workers, and now Donna is probably going to spend the rest of her life with a woman she can’t get a read on, stuck on a desolate planet with absolutely nobody else to talk to.

“We need to stick to a schedule,” Donna says.

Cameron slips her headphones off her ears and blinks up at her, “Whatever you say, Commander.” 

Donna doesn’t react. Cameron says _commander_ like it’s an inside joke or a slight against her, like she is being clear at how aware she is that Donna thinks she’s in charge. 

“Meals at the same time every day,” Donna continues, “we can split up tasks the night before, we have to go clear off the rest of the solar cells so we don’t lose power and I want to take inventory of the rovers and what’s left of the MDV.” 

“Sure.”

“We should schedule alone time too and we can’t push ourselves,” Donna says. “If we’re exhausted it’s just going to make things worse.”

“Slow and steady wins the race,” Cameron nods. “I have a plan for food, by the way.”

“Really?”

“Yes,” Cameron grins. “I just hope you love potatoes.”

\--- --- ---

Donna helps her set everything up. She suits up and goes to drag piles of dirt back in while Cameron double checks her notes and takes out the bags of shit, literal shit, from the bathroom. It’s disgusting and she hopes they get used to the smell, but she thinks suffering is a step up from starvation. She isn’t going to complain, not yet anyway, when it’s only been three days. 

“Check this for me?” Cameron asks. Donna has more degrees than she remembers, she’s pretty sure, something about engineering and geology, a trip with the Navy. She’s something of a legend, someone Cameron remembers Googling when she was a sophomore in college and declared a second major in mechanical engineering. She wouldn’t say that Donna inspired her, but she’s been aware of her for so long, she isn’t sure what she made up.

Cameron had no interest in the Air Force or Navy and her goal was never to be commander. She wanted to go to Mars and be the first one to help plant things on a new planet. If not the first, someone whose work led up to it. She wanted to do something to be remembered, but being one of the only two people to ever be stranded on Mars wasn’t high up on her list.

Donna is scribbling something into the margins of her notebook and Cameron lets her think, escapes to go get the bucket of potatoes she separated from the rest so that they could plant them. She kept the bigger ones with the rest of the food supply and took the smallest ones, the older ones with multiple eyes on them. She got the Hydrazine tank from the MDV last night, right before dinner, with Donna watching her carefully from inside of the HAB. 

Donna likes to know everything, that much was obvious from the moment Cameron met her, and she understands it now. There isn’t a lot they can control outside of the HAB, on a planet where nobody has spent longer than a couple of months on. 

Cameron drops the bucket of potatoes in front of Donna and her head snaps up to glare at her. 

“It’s a good plan,” Donna offers. 

“But?”

“But nothing,” Donna frowns. She pushes the notebook back into her hands. “You have to adjust the formula for us,” She says. “We’re going to be breathing out oxygen and that’d fuck the equation up.”

Cameron pictures lighting a flame and the whole HAB blowing up, “Shit.”

Donna laughs, a soft, airy sound and Cameron double checks the new math written on the pages. She adjusts the iridium settings and then takes two knives out of her pocket.

“Good catch, Commander,” Cameron says, holding out a knife.

“Donna,” Donna says. “I think you can call me Donna now, don’t you?”

“Sure,” Cameron shrugs. “Whatever you want.” 

It doesn’t take too long to cut up the potatoes and plant them. Cameron shows her how to slice them in half and make sure there’s at least two eyes on each side, before digging shallow holes in the Mars dirt and covering them up with the dirt she’d brought from Earth. 

Cameron is counting on there being enough bacteria in the dirt from Earth to be able to multiply and spread out and sustain her HAB potato fields. They have a giant box full of vitamins, more than enough to last them four years, so she isn’t worried about planting a diverse selection of food. If the potatoes sprout, she’ll try planting beans and peas. NASA packed more protein than needed in each food packet, so even a rationed proportion is enough. She is only worried about calories. 

“This is insane,” Donna says, when they’re finished. The majority of the HAB is covered in dirt. The only exceptions are the kitchen, the bathroom, the med bay, and their makeshift bedrooms, pushed back at the far end in a weak attempt to be further away from the smell.

“Yeah,” Cameron laughs. “Let’s just hope it works.”

\--- --- ---

It works.

The HAB is transformed into a damp, miserable place but there’s potatoes, so many fucking potatoes, and the water reclaimer tank is full. They split up their days and settle into something of a routine. Breakfast (potatoes), activities (Donna’s word, not Cameron’s, they’re _chores),_ a brief check in, writing all their readouts into a notebook, dinner (potatoes), and then downtime. 

The first few days they split up after dinner. Donna figured out how to build somewhat of a bath, structured out of the beds of their crewmates with a tarp to keep the water in. They’re still careful with the water supply but even Cameron admits it’s a nice addition. She films more video logs and tries not to think of their chances. 

Eventually, it gets lonely, and Donna appears from where they sectioned off the bathtub. Her hair is wet and dripping down her shoulders. It’s been a couple weeks and she’s already thinner. Cameron is thankful for the lack of mirrors in the HAB and she’s pretty sure they spend more time worrying about each other than themselves. She hasn’t seen what she looks like in weeks, but Donna tucks herself beside her on the bed and her shirt rolls up and Cameron can see the outline of her ribs.

“What are you doing?” Donna asks. 

“Judging your music taste,” Cameron grins.

Donna frowns, “You stole my laptop?”

“It’s not stealing,” Cameron shakes her head. “I’m just sick of my music.”

“And what is your music?” 

Cameron waves towards her laptop as permission and Donna picks it up. “Suicidal Tendencies?” She laughs, “They really let you bring this up to space?”

“They check this?”

“The Cure? The Weirdos? Dicks? Minor Threat?” Donna reads. “You’re lots of fun, aren’t you?”

“That’s your idea of fun?” Cameron grins. 

Donna flushes, which has been happening more often lately. It’s a fun game Cameron’s dedicated a good chunk of her time to, figuring out what she has to say to make the red spread across Donna’s face. She doesn’t remember it happening much before. Commander Emerson was all stony face, sharp edges and expressive eyes. Donna is a bit softer, more relaxed like she isn’t holding herself up as much, and she’s much more reactive. 

Cameron clicks out of Donna’s music and opens a folder called, games. There’s only three listed: Space Bike, Mario, and Pilgrim.

“Shit, you play Pilgrim?”

“Yeah,” Donna shrugs. “It took me forever to finish it. I thought it’d be a good choice to bring up here and start from the beginning again.”

“It took me forever too,” Cameron admits. “I think it was meant to be played that way.”

“Yeah,” Donna agrees. It feels too heavy, a metaphor for something. It’s obvious if Cameron thinks about it, but she doesn’t want to, so she moves on, “Tom has all the episodes of Friends on his,” Cameron says, “Want to watch?”

\--- --- ---

Donna ends up falling asleep in Cameron’s bed. 

Cameron moves to push the laptop back on the desk beside it and debates crawling out. It isn’t like Donna’s bed is far away but Donna looks passed on, a deep sleep, and she knows that’s been rare. 

Maybe it’s a weak excuse but she doesn’t move. She turns the lights off and adjusts so Donna isn’t entirely lying on top of her arm. 

The HAB is never completely quiet. Mars is, but inside the HAB there’s always something: wind outside, the hum of the power system, the splash of water dripping into the reclaimer. It was louder when the rest of their crew were still there, even if they were all supposed to sleep at the same time, there was usually someone still awake or someone up earlier. Now it’s just her and Donna. 

Donna doesn’t snore. She lies completely still and her breathing is evened out, deep and full but still quiet. Cameron feels wired, too aware of where their bodies are lined up and too anxious about the plans they’ve started to bring up. It isn’t like they have many options on Mars, but the ones they have all feel too risky. She squeezes her eyes shut and breathes, counting each inhale that comes out of Donna’s mouth and tries to match it. 

\--- --- ---

The Schiaparelli crater is about 3200 kilometers away from the HAB’s location in the Acidalia Planitia. Phoenix 4 is supposed to land there in four years with the assumption that they don’t cancel the program because two women died up there on the last trip. 

They argue about if it’s smarter to rig a rover to get there, to prove that they can, or if they should focus on communication. 

“We’ll have four years to try and get there,” Cameron points out. “We should try to contact them or else we have no idea if they’ll even bother coming back.”

“Okay,” Donna swallows. “Fine, we’ll focus on communications, but I think we should see if we even have the ability to get to the crater.”

Cameron rolls her eyes, “Sure, but it doesn’t matter if we can get there if we don’t even know if they’re still coming.”

“We can’t think like that,” Donna says. “We need to have something to focus on or we’re going to lose it.” 

“Fine,” Cameron snaps. “Let’s just - eat dinner and then we can think some more.”

Cameron heats up potatoes and Donna opens the meal packs. They taste - fine. It doesn’t matter anymore. Food isn’t pleasurable anymore, it’s just a means of survival. 

They sit together at Donna’s desks, dirt under their feet, and Cameron sighs, “Do you know why NASA sent us with real potatoes? Not dried ones or whatever, fake potatoes.”

“No,” Donna says, short. 

“Because of Thanksgiving,” Cameron says. “They thought it’d be good - for morale, something about bringing the team together, that it would mean more if we had to prepare the food together before we all ate.”

“I don’t think I would’ve let Tom help cook,” Donna says. 

Cameron grins at her, “Me either.” She stabs at another piece of potato and sighs. She doesn’t know who she misses. She doesn’t want to think about her life back on Earth. She doesn’t believe in jinxing things, but right now everyone she cares about thinks she’s dead.

They might’ve had the funeral already. They’re probably having a painful Thanksgiving dinner and thinking about how her body is up on Mars, never to be seen again. 

“Are you okay?” Donna asks, softly. 

“Who do you miss?” Cameron asks. 

“I don’t know,” Donna shrugs. “I don’t - it’s hard to think about any of them.”

“Yeah,” Cameron agrees. She doesn’t know a lot about Donna, personally. She knows more now - that Donna loves disco music, that she majored in computer science and has three PhDs, that she went to Berkeley but lives in Houston, that she loves ice cream and hates pumpkin pie. 

Donna took her ring off the second day they were alone on Mars. Cameron noticed, but didn’t bring it up, and now Donna is tracing her finger like the ring is still there and realizes Cameron is staring at her. 

“I didn’t like the reminder that he probably thinks I’m dead,” Donna shrugs. “It’s not - we weren’t - if we get back, nothing is going to be the same anyway.”

“When we get back,” Cameron corrects. She wants to reach out but she isn’t sure how to be comforting. Donna is still so tense, only relaxes for moments at a time, and stops as soon as she realizes it. 

“Yeah,” Donna smiles. “When.”

\--- --- ---

“Pathfinder,” Donna says. She’s smiling, a real smile that lights up her entire face, and Cameron slowly wakes up. 

“What?” 

“Pathfinder is way closer than the crater,” Donna says. “We can rig up a rover and get there way faster. We wouldn’t even need to bring an oxygenator, it’d be short enough.” She starts pacing again and Cameron sighs, swinging her legs over the side of the bed. 

“NASA lost contact with it in 1997,” Donna continues, “but it runs using solar cells and you’re - you could fix them, right?” 

“I think so,” Cameron nods. “And then we’d be able to communicate.”

“Yes,” Donna breathes. 

\--- --- --- 

They pick Rover 2 because it’s the one Donna used last. They steal Rover 1’s battery and install in on Rover 2. It takes longer than expected but they manage to get it attached. 

The next day they attach the solar cells. They aren’t heavy but they’re awkward to carry, big and longer than their arms. They get efficient at picking them up, fanning them over top of the Rover, and checking that they work. 

“We need to figure out heating,” Cameron says. They each did a test run, back and forth in a straight line away from the HAB, and it was freezing, even in three layers of clothing. 

“I have an idea,” Donna says. 

“Hit me with it,” Cameron says. They’re back inside now, standing in the airlock, and checking the rest of their suits. They have a lot left over from their crewmates, but they’ve been trying to be more careful with everything.

“The RTG is buried, not too far from here,” Donna says. “I know because I buried it.”

Cameron opens her mouth, then closes it. The RTG is a radioisotope thermoelectric generator but it’s basically a giant box of plutonium. Not even the kind that’s used in bombs, but an even more unstable isotope. The RTG holds the plutonium, catches the radiation in the form of heat, and then transforms it into electricity. It isn’t a reactor and it isn’t adjustable, it’s an unstoppable process that’s happening at the atomic level.

“It’d be almost 1500 watts,” Donna says. “It’d work but probably hotter than we want. We can take some of the Rover’s insulation and stuff it around to buffer it a bit.”

“Okay,” Cameron shrugs. “Let’s do it.”

\--- --- ---

“I’m going,” Donna tells her. It sounds like an order and Cameron bites back snapping out a _commander._ “You have the mechanical engineering degree and it’s more likely that something could go wrong here.” Donna continues. It sounds like she’s reading from a prepared list and Cameron sighs, leaning back in her hair. “I’m more familiar with the terrain and more likely to be able to get to Pathfinder. It should be me.”

“What if I want to go?” Cameron pushes.

“Do you?” 

“Yes,” Cameron says, but she doesn’t want to fight. “If you think it makes more sense that you should go, then fine.” 

“Thank you,” Donna swallows. She looks flustered again and Cameron shrugs, “how long will it be?” 

“Twenty days,” Donna says. “Give or take.”

“That’s a long time,” Cameron mutters.

Donna smiles at her, “Going to miss me, Howe?”

Cameron rolls her eyes.

\--- --- ---

**SOL 71**

Donna takes Cameron’s music with it. It’s fitting, listening to loud and angry songs as she drives across Mars. It’s a boring drive, in terms of the views. It’s mostly flat and barren, the same red coloured sand she’s sick of seeing. 

It’s getting hard to be positive but if she thinks about the big picture, how she’s the first person to drive across this land, the first person to step outside, the first person to see a crater, it starts feeling a bit better. 

The twelve hour waiting periods to charge the batteries are the worst. She underestimated how much having Cameron around made things better. She listens to The Cure and writes her logs. She watches an episode of Friends and tries to sleep. She thinks about Gordon. She wonders if he thinks she’s dead. She wonders if he’s moved or if he’s thinking about her or if he’s holding this against her.

Gordon didn’t want her to go. Gordon didn’t understand what space meant to her, how much much she loved what she did. This is her third trip. The first one was to the ISS and the second was to the moonbase. Mars was the one she had always been aiming for. Gordon wanted her to take a step back. He wanted her to stay on Earth. He wanted her to stay with him. 

Donna feels guilty about it, mostly. Their marriage was falling apart before she agreed to be the commander of the mission. It was hanging on by a thread when she left, when he showed up at the launch site before she went into quarantine and hugged her. She has no idea where they stand right now, no idea if Gordon thinks he’s a widow, or if he still has hope. 

Donna tried writing him letters in the beginning. She stopped after 14 sols, when it felt like anything she said wasn’t good enough. She tries again now but can’t think of anything to say. She gives up and turns her own music on, not the disco, but the classical piano music that overwhelms her enough that she can stop thinking and just listen.

\--- --- ---

**SOL 82**

Cameron pointed out that she should bring both Pathfinder and Sojourner back. Pathfinder is the communicator part but Sojourner has parts they can use to set something out so that Earth can communicate back. They can hold up something to the lander’s camera to talk to Earth, but the only way for them to reply is through the antenna and the camera boom. 

Donna figures they’ll use the six wheels that Sojourner has and set up letters on each of them. Then NASA could rotate them to spell things out. 

It assumes a lot: that she can get everything back to the HAB safely, that Cameron can fix Pathfinder, and that nothing is irreparably broken. 

Donna gets the Pathfinder onto Rover 2 relatively easily. The older Rover is another story. It’s huge and heavy and it seems impossible to lift when she’s in a bulky space suit and has no help. She figures she’ll let the solar cells get more energy while she builds a ramp out of rocks. Mars, thankfully, has a lot of rocks. 

Twenty minutes into stacking rocks it feels impossible to breathe. She cheats and ups her oxygen levels. It helps and she’ll have to remind herself not to make it a habit, but an hour later she has a ramp and a newly attached Rover to her new Rover. She attaches both with rope, a classic, and then takes a break back inside. She’ll have to destroy the ramp before she drives off, just in case that the collapse of it broke something on her Rover. She figures it’s a job for the morning, right before she starts driving again. She’s so tired that it barely takes any time to fall asleep.

\--- --- ---

**SOL 94**

Every time Donna has to stop and do an EVA she takes samples of rocks and dust and dirt. It helps to do something that she was actually supposed to be doing on Mars. She’s a geologist and this was her original job, second to being commander. She was supposed to put as much shit into bags as possible and then separate things to bring home. She figures she can still pull it off, still accomplish something on this mission that isn’t just surviving. 

It’s her last chance to do so on this trip. She’s nearly home - to the HAB - and it surprises her how much she’s looking forward to it. She misses not being cramped in a tiny space, she misses not having anyone to talk to, and she misses arguing with Cameron over irrelevant things over a dinner of prepared meat and potatoes. 

Donna found the HAB signal the day before which means her chances of getting lost on Mars are slim. She buries the RTG before she goes back and figures they can start working on Pathfinder in the morning. She’s exhausted and she barely remembers to plug the Rover back in to charge before she heads into the HAB.

Cameron is waiting for her. It’s nearly the time they usually ate dinner and she’s smiling at her on the other side of the airlock. Donna slips out of her suit and hangs it up. It feels incredible to be able to walk without being suited up and she opens the door as soon as it's pressurized. 

“Hi,” Donna says. 

“Hi,” Cameron echoes.

Donna hugs her. Cameron clearly isn’t expecting it. She stumbles backwards a bit but steadies herself. Her arms wrap loosely around Donna’s shoulders and she’s tall enough that Donna’s head fits under her chin. It’s nice. Arguably too nice but Donna is in too good of a mood to worry about anything.


	2. mars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Donna & Cameron make contact with NASA.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you read the first chapter before please read it again! it's longer and i made a few changes because i think it makes more sense going forward!

“It’s a silver-zinc battery,” Cameron says. “1.5 volts.” She spent most of the morning checking out Pathfinder. She’s back inside the HAB now, using a reserve power line and putting a controller on it. She'll have to outside and run the line to where the battery was before, but it should work. 

They’ll use the environment heater from Rover 1 to keep it warmer so it even has a shot at working again. She gets it hooked up to power and then heads back inside to eat dinner with Donna. There isn’t any point in worrying about it; she knows it’s something that’ll take time.

They sleep on it, hoping that the antenna on Pathfinder has moved when they wake up, but when they do, it’s still pointing straight up, unmoved from the day before.

“It might need more time to heat up,” Cameron says. “Martian air is so thin it could be fucking it up.”

“Or it just can’t see Earth yet,” Donna shrugs. Earth is only visible during the day so most of the time it’s had to settle has been without a chance of seeing the Earth. 

“Yeah,” Cameron says. There isn’t any point in waiting for it to work, but they set up a question, _can you hear us?_ and two signs, a yes and a no. 

They have breakfast (potatoes and eggs) and Donna reads another chapter out loud from one of the books Ryan brought. It’s boring, some science non-fiction book that’s too close to a textbook, but it’s respiratory statuses in different conditions. 

Cameron thinks it shouldn’t be comforting, listening to Donna talk about alveoli and pH levels and how to cure acidosis, but Donna’s voice is soothing and it’s something to do. 

The next time they check the antenna is pointing towards yes. Cameron nearly cries and Donna is gripping her arm. She can barely feel it through the layers of their space suits but she turns to her and grins, “They know we’re alive.”

\--- --- ---

“We’ll have to use ASCII,” Donna says. “It’s how computers manage characters. Each character has a numerical code between 0 and 255.” She pulls out her laptop and keeps talking, “Values between 0 and 255 can be expressed as 2 hexadecimal digits. They can send us pairs of hex digits and they can even use characters, like numbers and punctuation.” She pulls up the ASCII table and shows it to Cameron. 

They write up the cards and set them up before going back to their routine. Cameron checks on the crops, adjusts the oxygen levels and cleans up the kitchen. Donna goes outside and clears off the solar cells. She checks on the receiver before she goes back in. They left a message earlier, _Spell with ASCII. 0–F at 21-degree increments. Will watch camera starting 11:00 my time. When message done, return to this position. Wait 20 minutes after completion to a take picture (so we can write and post reply). Repeat process at top of every hour._

**S...T...A...T...U...S**  
_No physical problems. HAB is functional. Successfully grew crops. Make sure Phoenix 3’s crew knows it wasn’t their fault. Bad luck._

**H…O…W…A…L…I…V…E**  
_Impaled by antenna fragment and got knocked out. Blood sealed hole. Donna brought me to HAB. Bio-monitor destroyed by puncture._

**C…R…O…P…S…?**  
_Long story. Extreme botany. Have 126 m2 farmland growing potatoes. Will extend food supply, but not enough to last until Phoenix 4 landing. Modified rover for long-distance travel, plan to drive to landing spot._

They answer a few more questions and Donna hopes that the Jet Propulsion Lab can come up with a faster idea to communicate. The Sun is about to set on Earth so she tells them to check in the morning and heads back inside the HAB.

\--- --- ---

“Explain again, please,” Cameron says. 

“They updated Pathfinder to a new software,” Donna starts. “They can do that remotely, but they can’t access the Rover, so they need us to hack it and then the Pathfinder will broadcast the new software to the Rover. The rover will log the bytes to a file and we’ll launch it as an executable and the Rover will patch itself back up.”

“Right,” Cameron says, dragging the word out. “How long will it take?”

It takes a long fucking time.

It’s impossible to write the code down by hand, standing on the surface of Mars, and the laptop they brought out died instantly. It’s probably the fact that the L in LCD stands for liquid, so it either froze or boiled off. Donna isn’t sure but it doesn’t matter.

The fact is that they get the code and she draws it out in the sand. Cameron takes a picture of it because cameras are functional on Mars and then they go back inside and enter it into the Rover. 

They should wake up to a functioning communications system. 

\--- --- --- 

**“[11:18] JPL:** Donna and Cameron, this is Venkat Kapoor. We’ve been watching you since Sol 49. The whole world’s been rooting for you. Amazing job, getting Pathfinder. We’re working on rescue plans. JPL is adjusting Phoenix 4’s MDV to do a short overland flight. They’ll pick you two up, then take you with them to Schiaparelli. We’re putting together a supply mission to keep you fed till Phoenix 4 arrives.

**[11:29] EMERSON:** Glad to hear it. Really looking forward to not dying. We want to make it clear it wasn’t the crew’s fault. Side question: What did they say when they found out I was alive? Also, “Hi, Mom!”

**[11:41] JPL:** Tell us about your “crops.” We estimated your food packs would last until Sol 400 at 3/4 ration per meal. Will your crops affect that number? As to your question: We haven’t told the crew you’re alive yet. We wanted them to concentrate on their own mission.

**[11:52] EMERSON:** The crops are potatoes, grown from the ones we were supposed to prepare on Thanksgiving. They’re doing great, but the available farmland isn’t enough for sustainability. We'll run out of food around Sol 900. Also: Tell the crew we're alive! What the fuck is wrong with you?

**[12:04] JPL:** We’ll get botanists in to ask detailed questions and double-check your work. Your life is at stake, so we want to be sure. Sol 900 is great news. It’ll give us a lot more time to get the supply mission together. Also, please watch your language. Everything you type is being broadcast live all over the world.

**[12:15] EMERSON:** Look! A pair of boobs! -> (.Y.)

**[12:16] EMERSON:** I want to be clear that that was Howe.

\--- --- ---

Now that NASA can contact them, they won’t shut the hell up. 

They have opinions on everything from the percentage they ration, to the way in which Cameron adjusts the water levels in the soil, to how they plant more potatoes, and to how often they trek out to the Rover to get their data dumps. 

Cameron ignores most of Earth’s botanists. She’s the best botanist on this planet, she thinks she’s earned it, and lets Donna handle most of the communication back. 

They get emails from celebrities: athletes, singers, their alma maters, the President, but it’s the ones from their family that hit the hardest. 

Cameron reads one from her Bos and one from her mom. They make her feel better and worse at the same time. There’s hope but it feels like too much that it’s unsustainable. She thinks she turned it into a game before. 

If they survived until Phoenix 4 arrived, it was game over. Four years was the target. She didn’t think past that. But now there’s real hope, NASA funded hope, that people want them to come back home, that people want to save them. If she thinks about it, it’s overwhelming, so she focuses back on her daily routines. 

“How’s your family?” Cameron asks.

“Good,” Donna shrugs. “You know, they’re - fine. I think someone told them not to say anything that could potentially set me off.” 

Cameron grins, “Bos is just sending me updates about his grandkids and my mom just keeps saying that she misses me and loves me and that she’ll see me soon.”

Donna smiles back, but it’s shaky. “I can tell that it’s my dad who is writing everything. My mom is definitely there but I just - she’s probably so scared and mad and I - we have to get back home.” 

“We will,” Cameron promises. “We lasted this long, we’ll figure it out.” She doesn’t think about how Donna never mentions her husband. Cameron figures he sends something, but it’s either too private or too revealing or something. Cameron doesn’t know. 

The second best messages are from their crew. They take turns guessing who wrote what without reading the signature. It’s obvious when it’s Joe and even more so when it’s Tom. Ryan is somewhere in between the two of them, less grandiose but not as bare, and it’s an easy game but still a fun one. 

\--- --- ---

**SOL 116**

It’s nearly time for the second harvest and Cameron is way too smug about it. 

“We already knew you could do it,” Donna points out. “I don’t know why you’re so happy about this.” 

“These are our babies,” Cameron huffs. “We aren’t even replanting them! These are our food, our energy, the only way we’re going to survive this planet, and you can’t understand why I’m so happy? All natural, organic, Martian-grown potatoes.”

Donna rolls her eyes but she’s smiling. She’s writing their daily readouts into the log. Cameron knows they probably won’t get to keep any of this, that bringing extra weight up on their ascent to whatever ship is taking them back is never a good idea, and that most likely it’s going to stay up on Mars until Phoenix 4 takes it back. Maybe even 5. She wishes she could bring something back. A notebook or even a potato, but she knows it’s useless to think about. 

The next crop of potatoes are going to be stored right outside their door. The water will be sucked out by the near-vacuum and what’s left will freeze solid. It’ll kill any bacteria trying to rot them and prevent them from going back before they can eat them.

Science. Cameron fucking loves it. 

\--- --- ---

_Cameron, some answers to your earlier questions:  
No, we will not tell our Botany Team to “Go fuck themselves.” I understand you’ve been on your own for a long time, but we’re in the loop now, and it’s best if you listen to what we have to say.  
The Cubs finished the season at the bottom of the NL Central.  
The data transfer rate just isn’t good enough for the size of music files, even in compressed formats. So your request for “Anything, oh God, ANYTHING but Disco” is denied. Enjoy your boogie fever.  
Also, an uncomfortable side note…NASA is putting together a committee. They want to see if there were any avoidable mistakes that led you to being stranded. Just a heads-up. They may have questions for you later on.  
Keep us posted on your activities.  
—Kapoor_

Cameron sighs and types back.  
_Dear Kapoor,_

_I am not sorry for saying that but I know they want to help. However, you can tell them that they are wrong and my potatoes are fine. Second, there weren’t any mistakes. There wasn’t anything anyone could’ve done to prevent this._

_Cameron, official colonizer of Mars.  
_

\--- --- ---  
**SOL 118**

“The waiter reclaimer is acting up and NASA thinks we’re dying because of it,” Cameron says. She pauses, “Also, good morning.”

“What?” Donna frowns. Her hair is longer now. Cameron has offered to give her a haircut, they’ve got scissors, but so far no luck. 

“It’s obviously clogged,” Cameron says. “I can just take it apart and check the tubing, but NASA doesn’t trust me.” She grins, “So, I wanted to ask you. Can I take it apart? Do you trust me with your life?”

Donna rolls her eyes and blinks the sleep out of her eyes. She stretches her arms over her head and tilts her neck back until it cracks. “Yes, sure. I trust you. How long have you been up?”

“Not that long,” Cameron shrugs. “I got the mail dump, checked the potatoes, made us breakfast, and then read their stupid messages.”

“They want to help,” Donna says.

“I know, NASA is full of geniuses,” Cameron says. “But we’ve also done okay by ourselves.”

Donna laughs, quietly. She pushes her hair out of her face, “Let me eat and then I’ll help you take it apart.”

\--- --- ---

They label every single piece and lay it all out on a table. They pull the schematics up on a computer to double check everything and eventually find a clogged tube. 

“It’s designed to purify urine and strain humidity,” Cameron explains. “We made mineral water when we mixed water with soil, so those minerals built up in here.

“So, we just have to clean it?” Donna asks, leaning in to see. Cameron nods and when she turns her head, Donna is closer than she expected. She nearly jumps back, probably would’ve if her hands weren’t holding tubing and stuck in a reclaimer. 

Donna laughs at her and pulls back herself, “I’ll go tell NASA what you did.” 

_  
**EMERSON:** Cameron took it apart, found the problem, and fixed it.  
**NASA:** Dick._

\--- --- ---

**SOL 119**

Sleeping in the same bed became a habit, somewhere along when Donna came back from getting Pathfinder. Cameron is sure the therapists they’ll be forced to see when they get back on Earth will sum it up as a reaction to spending 22 days completely alone. She doesn’t really think it needs to be analyzed. 

It’s just - easier. It’s easier to wake up and see someone there, who can confirm that what’s happening is real. 

It’s especially easier when there’s a medium-grade sandstorm that starts up and ends so quickly that Cameron isn’t sure it even happened. 

“You good?” Donna asks, sleepily. Her face is tucked into Cameron’s chest. Usually they wake up the other way around, technically spooning but not because Cameron hates the term. 

“Yeah,” Cameron sighs. She kisses Donna’s head, absentmindedly, before dropping her head back onto the pillows. “I’m worried about Pathfinder.” 

“It’ll be fine,” Donna murmurs. “It’s survived Mars for decades. We’ll check tomorrow when we go clear the solar cells.” 

“Yeah,” Cameron agrees, “Night.” 

\--- --- ---

“They’re sending us _homework?”_ Cameron asks.

“I mean - yes?” Donna shrugs. “It isn’t like we’re super busy. He said it’s mostly EVAs, geological sampling, soil tests, and self-administered medical tests.”

“Great,” Cameron says. “All of your favourite things.”

They take samples and measure pH levels, they draw blood and perform titrations, they write everything down and then copy them into the computers. They send their results back down to Earth and receive more tasks to complete the next day.

“I hate chemistry,” Cameron mutters. “It’s stupid.”

“Isn’t half your plant shit chemistry?” Donna asks. 

“No,” Cameron huffs. “My plant shit isn’t as boring as this. I grew you food. Joe wants us to measure the fucking pH levels of own blood. Boring.”

Donna laughs. She’s been preparing slides of samples of dirt and soil and of their own blood to look at under the microscope. It seems to be helping her. The tension is all but gone and Cameron figures it’s because they’re so exhausted it’s hard to do anything that isn’t required. 

They’re losing too much weight but there isn’t anything they can do about it. They aren’t close to death but it still makes her heart ache whenever she sees her face in the mirror or when Donna turns to the side and Cameron can see her hip bones. 

“We should switch,” Cameron whines. “You do this titration shit, I’ve seen you do it, you’re excellent and I’ll try to find bugs in pieces of dirt.”

“Bugs,” Donna repeats. “Bugs?” She’s already standing up, going to wash her hands, before switching places with her.

“Bacteria, viruses, maybe some worms,” Cameron shrugs. “Life!”

\--- --- ---

The Rich Purnell maneuver is sent to Joe MacMillan’s email just before the crew’s scheduled bedtime. It’s titled kinder.jpg and it won’t open. 

Joe asks Ryan about it and they find that it isn’t a jpeg at all.

“It’s a plain ASCII text file,” Ryan frowns, squinting at the screen. “Looks like - well, I don’t know what it is. Looks like a bunch of formulas.” 

“It’s a course maneuver for Hermes,” Joe says. “It says the name is the Rich Purnell Maneuver.”

“What is that?”

“I haven’t heard of it,” Joe frowns. He looks at the tables. “It’s complicated, very complicated, but -” He freezes, looking at the arrival date for Mars. “Sol 549.”

\--- --- ---

“Would this really work?” Diane asks. She’s the commander now, second to Donna. 

“Yes,” Joe says. He showed the file to Ryan and he’d double checked the numbers. 

“We both ran them. They all check out,” Ryan says. “It’s brilliant.”

“How would we get them off of Mars?” Tom asks. 

“They’d have to get into Phoenix 4’s MAV.”

“Okay,” Tom nods. “But why all the cloak and dagger?”

“According to the message,” Diane explained, “NASA rejected the idea. They’d rather take a big risk on Donna and Cameron than a small risk on all of us. Whoever sent this to Joe obviously disagrees.”

“So,” Ryan says, “we’re talking about going directly against NASA’s decision?”  
“Yes,” Diane confirms, “that’s exactly what we’re talking about. If we go through with the maneuver, they’ll have to send the supply ship or we’ll die. We have the opportunity to force their hand.”

“Are we going to do it?” Tom asks.

They all looked to Diane.

“I won’t lie,” she said. “I’d sure as hell like to. But this isn’t a normal decision. This is something NASA expressly rejected. We’re talking about mutiny. And that’s not a word I throw around lightly.”

She stood and paced slowly around the table. “We’ll only do it if we all agree. And before you answer, consider the consequences. If we mess up the supply rendezvous, we die. If we mess up the Earth gravity assist, we die.”

“If we do everything perfectly, we add five hundred and thirty-three days to our mission. Five hundred and thirty-three days of unplanned space travel where anything could go wrong. Maintenance will be a hassle. Something might break that we can’t fix. If it’s life-critical, we die.”

“If we do this,” Joe says, “it would be over one thousand days of space. This is enough space for a life. I do not need to return.”

“I’m in,” Ryan says. 

“Me too,” Tom nods. 

“Okay,” Diane swallows. “If we do this, what’s involved?”

Joe shrugs, “I plot the course and execute it.”

“Remote override,” Ryan says. “It’s designed to get the ship back if we all die or something. They can take over Hermes from Mission Control. I can disable it.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Yes,” Ryan nods. “Shouldn’t be hard. It’s an emergency feature, not a security program. It isn’t protected against malicious code.”

“Malicious code?” Joe smiles. “So…you’ll be a hacker?”

“Yeah,” Ryan shrugs, “I guess so.”

“All right,” Diane says. “Looks like we can do it. But I don’t want peer pressure forcing anyone into it. We’ll wait for twenty-four hours. During that time, anyone can change their mind. Just talk to me in private or send me an e-mail. I’ll call it off and never tell anyone who it was.”

Diane stays in the kitchen as they all file out. She sees them smile and knows. For the first time since leaving Mars, they were back to their old selves. She knew right then no one’s mind would change.

They were going back to Mars.

\--- --- ---

**LOG ENTRY - SOL 192. LOCATION: HAB - KITCHEN**

“Holy shit,” Cameron breathes.

“They’re coming back for us,” Donna repeats. They cried when they read the news and then figured they should make a video for the log, no tears. 

Cameron has her arm around Donna’s shoulders so that she’s tucked into her side and Donna is smiling up at her. It’s innocent. They’re friends now but Donna forgets, that some of these videos are going to be seen, that there’s implications to everything now and that she’s gotten used to not having to hide her emotions. 

“I don’t even know how to react,” Cameron says and Donna snaps back to it. They wrap the video up quickly and send it back home. Katie wants them to send more personalized things. Something about justifying why NASA should even bother saving them. Neither of them have ever met Katie. She’s the director of media relations at NASA and Cameron is sick of her.

“They can’t orbit,” Donna says and Cameron pays attention again. “If we’re not in space when they pass by, all they can do is wave good-bye.”

“We have to get to Schiaparelli,” Cameron frowns. “Fuck.”

They have a lot of shit to do. They have to modify the rover to be able to carry the atmospheric regulator, the oxygenator, and the water reclaimer. They all have to fit in the pressurized area but the rover isn’t big enough. They also have to be running at all times, but the rover’s batteries can’t handle that, either. 

The rover needs to be able to carry all the food, water, solar cells, batteries, tools, spare parts, and the Pathfinder. The last is required for communication with NASA, so it’ll ride on the roof. They’ll have to combine both rovers into one. Then they can shove everything in and use the HAB canvas to loosely cover the hole. 

Kapoor sends them instructions and Donna laughs, “Cam, I hope you like drilling.”

\--- --- ---

“What’s the first thing you’re going to do?” Cameron asks. “When we’re back and NASA’s done running tests on us.”

“Breakfast,” Donna says. “I want pancakes and french toast and syrup and whipped cream and fresh berries and orange juice and real coffee.”

“Jesus,” Cameron laughs. “You’ve thought about this.”

“Yeah,” Donna grins. She rolls over so that they’re facing each other properly. She isn’t going to tell anyone but these are her favourite moments on Mars. When they’re both so tired, sore and achy, and stretched to their limits, but they still spend a few minutes talking. About anything. About favourite foods and amusement parks and the best Christmas presents they’ve received. About how Cameron got a C+ in an introduction to plant biology course and how Donna never thought she’d actually go to space. 

“What about you?”

“Pizza,” Cameron says. “The worst part about this is that I’m never going to want to eat fries ever again. No potatoes.”

Donna laughs and hides her face against Cameron’s shirt. She feels like she’s always cold now, too thin and not enough food to waste energy on warming her up. Cameron rubs her back through her shirt. Donna doesn’t think Cameron realizes she does it, but she isn’t going to point it out in case she does. 

“The worst part?”

“Yes,” Cameron grins. “For sure.”

\--- --- ---

They pace themselves. There isn’t a rush when the target date to leave is so far away, so they continue with science experiments that NASA sends up, watch all the movies and tvs on everyone’s laptops, and rank who has the worst taste in music (they disagree). 

They plan their route, 1350 kilometers of easy terrain through Acidalia and Mawrth Vallis, and then absolute hell for the last 1850 kilometers. Neither of them want to think about the descent into the Schiaparelli itself. 

On sol 390 they declare themselves ready. They wrote a list out of everything they prepared and Donna reads it out as Cameron double checks.

Food: 1692 potatoes. Vitamin pills.  
Water: 620 liters.  
Shelter: Rover, trailer, bedroom.  
Air: Rover and trailer combined storage: 14 liters liquid O2, 14 liters liquid N2.  
Life Support: Oxygenator and atmospheric regulator. 418 hours of use-and-discard CO2 filters for emergencies.  
Power: 36 kilowatt-hours of storage. Carrying capacity for 29 solar cells.  
Heat: 1400-watt RTG. Homemade reservoir to heat regulator’s return air. Electric heater in rover as a backup.

They’re planning on leaving on sol 449, which gives them 59 sols to test everything out and figure out how to fix what doesn’t. 

\--- --- ---

“I didn’t think I’d be scared to leave this place,” Cameron mutters. 

They have two more days until they’re leaving and then 45 sols of driving. NASA told them that the hook around Earth was successful, that the emergency supplies docked, and Hermes is on their way. 

“Me either,” Donna sighs. She’s been cooking potatoes for most of the day. It’ll help them taste better but also helps the proteins break down. The food will be easier to digest and they’ll get a bit more calories out of it which they desperately need. 

God, Cameron fucking hates potatoes. 

“How much do you think has changed?” Cameron asks. “I know that - everyone on Phoenix 3 will have been gone for the same amount of time as us, but - it’s different, right?”

“I think being stranded on Mars and having to do everything we did is different than being on a spaceship, yes,” Donna says. She bags another pile of potatoes and sighs, “I think everything is going to change. If it works, we’re going to be famous for something, good or bad, and there’s going to be questions and reports and I don’t know.” 

Donna hesitates, “We’re going to be the only people who understand.”

“Yeah,” Cameron swallows. “I - uh, also wanted to thank you?”

“For what?”

“Not leaving me here alone,” Cameron says. “I know that you could’ve gone for the MAV and escaped but you didn’t. You stayed and you saved me and got stuck on Mars because you chose me over yourself.”

“It wasn’t a choice,” Donna shrugs. “I didn’t - I could see you and I didn’t think you were dead, I could see the bio-monitor go flying and I was closer to you than anyone else. I might’ve missed the MAV, we won’t know and it doesn’t matter.”

“Still,” Cameron says. “I’m really glad you were with me. It would’ve been awful by myself, I don’t even know if I would’ve survived, and you didn’t have to do it, but you did.”

“If I say you’re welcome will you stop blaming yourself for somehow getting stabbed in a freak accident during a sandstorm on Mars?” 

“Yes,” Cameron grins. 

Donna grins back, “You’re welcome.”

\--- --- ---

**SOL 488, DAY 10 OF DRIVING**

They make it to Mawrth Vallis and celebrate. It’s their second Air Day which basically means an off day. 

The only thing they have to do is turn on the oxygenator. The rest of the day is spent hanging out, rewatching the same shows and movies, and sleep, if they feel like it.

Today they re-watch some horror film that Ryan brought with him. It isn’t scary anymore when both of them know exactly what happens, but Cameron has the laptop on her calves and Donna’s head resting against her thighs and it’s almost nice.

“I’m going to miss you,” Cameron whispers, suddenly. 

“What?” Donna asks. She frowns, “You’ll still see me.”

“Maybe,” Cameron says. “I’m too used to seeing your face every day now.”

Donna smiles at her and sits up properly. Her hand is cold against Cameron’s face and she pushes her hair back behind her ear. It’s longer now and not as platinum as when they first left Earth. She gave up on self-haircuts somewhere around sol 350. 

“You’re stuck with me,” Donna says. “I don’t care - we’ll make it work. I think - we’ll still need each other, or at least I’ll still need you.”

“Me too,” Cameron says. She leans forward and kisses Donna’s cheek. It’s too soft and too easy and she flushes more. Someone screams in the movie and Donna laughs, moving back to her original position. 

\--- --- ---

It isn’t until they finally get their personalized rover to the crater and check on the MAV that NASA tells them their plans. 

“This is insane,” Cameron says.

“They want us to strip everything off the ship,” Donna breathes. 

“They want Ryan to just - launch us up into space, in a ship that is basically just a giant hollowed out piece of metal,” Cameron says. 

Donna reads the message again, “Yes, that’s exactly what they said.”

They don’t complain for long. They’re trained not to and it isn’t like they can come up with anything better. They eat lunch (potatoes) and then start working on destroying the MAV.

“It’s basically a space convertible,” Cameron snarks. They’re back in the rover but the MAV is visible. There’s piles of everything they destroyed surrounding it. It does not look very promising. 

\--- --- ---

A week out from the launch date, they get a message from Joe. 

**[19:22] JOE:** Hello, Donna and Cameron.  
**[19:23] MAV:** MacMillan!? Holy crap! They finally let you talk to us directly?  
**[19:24] JOE:** Yes, NASA gave the OK for direct communication an hour ago. We’re only 35 light-seconds apart, so we can talk in near-real time. I just set up the system and I’m testing it out.  
**[19:24] MAV:** What took them so long to let us talk?  
**[19:25] JOE:** The psych team was worried about personality conflicts.  
**[19:27] MAV:** Roger. So uh…thanks for coming back to get me.  
**[19:27] JOE:** It’s the least we could do. How is the MAV retrofit going?  
**[19:28] MAV:** So far, so good. NASA put a lot of thought into the procedures. They work. That’s not to say they’re easy. I spent the last 3 days removing Hull Panel 19 and the front window. Even in Mars-g they’re heavy motherfuckers.  
**[19:29] JOE:** When we pick you up, I will make wild, passionate love to you. Prepare your body.”  
**[19:29] JOE:** I DIDN’T TYPE THAT IT WAS RYAN !!!! I stepped away from the console for like ten seconds.  
**[19:30] MAV:** I really missed you guys.

\--- --- ---

**SOL 549**

“This is insane,” Cameron says. Four hours and then they’ll be riding a giant fucking space convertable through an explosion in orbit. It feels nothing like a normal launch. 

They were told to sit in the MAV strapped into seats. The rest of it is empty. If they look up, it looks like a white bedsheet is loosely taped over the top. Cameron has no clue what the point of it is but she’s too tired to question it. 

They had to wear their suits because of it which means she can barely see Donna’s face. They don’t have to do anything else. Ryan will launch them when it’s time. They only have hope left. 

The night before they ate the last two meal packs. It was the first good meal they’d eaten in weeks and they left 41 potatoes on Mars. It is baffling how close they were to starvation. 

Donna packed all the samples into a container and left it near the edge of the crater. It would’ve been too heavy to bring with them but they figured they’d make it easy for someone on another mission to pick up. 

“Donna?” Cameron calls.

“Yeah?”

“I just - I meant it,” Cameron says. She feels like she’s yelling but she can’t be sure. “I’m really glad it was you with me.”

Donna turns towards her. Her face is obscured by the helmet. “Cameron, it’s been an honour and a privilege.”

Cameron wants to laugh but she thinks she might be crying instead. Donna sounds like Commander Emerson, but the version of her who likes Cameron. “Yeah, commander,” Cameron swallows, “For me too.”

\--- --- ---

Five minutes to launch and Cameron wants to throw up. Ryan is in her ear, rambling as he tries to calm them down. “Don’t worry if you pass out, okay? You’re going to feel some really heavy Gs.”

“Hey Ryan?” Donna asks.

“Yes, commander?” 

“Thanks for coming back for us.”

“Of course,” Ryan grins. “You were on our way home.”

Cameron snorts and she can hear Donna laugh. 

“About five seconds, Emerson, Howe,” Tom says. “Hang on.”

“See you in a few,” Donna replies. 

“…four…three…two…”

The MAV is launched with a breathtaking amount of force. The most acceleration any manned ship has experienced in the history of space travel. Donna and Cameron are all about breaking records. 

They put folded-up shirts in the back of their helmets in hopes of protecting themselves more. There’s too much pressure to breathe or move so they squeeze their eyes shut and wait. 

“Donna?” Cameron asks when she opens her eyes again. Still flying in space. “Donna?”

“Howe, what’s happening?” Ryan asks.

“She’s still out,” Cameron says. She feels the panic building. She’s dizzy, so dizzy and her entire body aches. 

“Her vitals are fine, Cam,” Diane says. “She’s okay.” 

Cameron doesn’t answer, “How much longer?”

“Ten minutes,” Ryan answers.

“I am fine,” Donna breathes. Her voice is rough and choppy, too many pauses between words and she barely said anything.

“She doesn’t sound fine,” Cameron points out. 

“Can you say something else for me?” Ryan asks.

“I...said - that I’m fine,” Donna snaps. Or as much as she can snap when her chest is on fire and there’s a stabbing pain slightly lower. 

“Ryan?” Cameron asks. 

“She’ll be okay,” Ryan promises. “Just as soon as you’re here, I’m taking her to the med bay.”

“That does not comfort me,” Cameron says.

“I’m fine,” Donna says.

It takes them ten minutes until Tom reaches out and grabs them. It takes three minutes for them to get to the med bay. It takes five for Tom to tear Donna’s shirt open, apologize for the pain and to slip a needle into her body to relieve the pressure. It takes ten minutes for Donna’s oxygen levels to climb to safe enough levels. It takes fifteen for Joe to convince Cameron to lay down on the other table. It takes her three minutes to let go of Donna’s hand and get led away. 

“You need to shower, seriously,” Ryan tells her.

“Fuck off,” Cameron whines. She isn’t sure if she can stand. Her vision is still blurry from the acceleration and her entire body hurts. It’s like her body finally realized that she’s safe and has given up on her. “Is Donna okay?”

“Broken ribs,” Ryan shrugs. “Collapsed lung but she looks good. Tom told her she isn’t allowed to talk for another few hours.”

“She’ll handle that well,” Cameron mutters. 

Ryan laughs, “I missed you.”

“Missed you too,” Cameron smiles. “Thank you, seriously, for coming back.”

“Wow,” Ryan grins, “Did Mars teach you manners?”

Cameron flips him off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
